Dependency
by NightmareWalker
Summary: "Your name is Katniss Everdeen. You live in Twelve. You escaped the Games. You're home." Katniss spirals into depression following the war and death of her sister. She finds solace in an unlikely person and, through everything, they make the best of what they have. Follows Mockingjay Part 2 with my own twist, so spoilers! KatnissxCressida if you squint. T for language.


Evening, all! So, here's a one shot for y'all, it's based on the end of Mockingjay, so beware! If you haven't read the end or seen the second half of Mockingjay, this contains spoilers! With my own twist, of course, based on a moment between Katniss and Cressida in the Capital that I HAD to use.

Read on!

* * *

"Okay, so we just blend into the crowd, go with the refugees to Snow's mansion, right?" Katniss asked again as she shrugged on a large hooded jacket. Tigris handed Gale a dark colored hood of his own and adjusted it as he yanked it over his head, pulling the cloth more naturally over the lump of his gear and weapon hidden beneath the cloak. In the shadows of the shop, Peeta huddled with red rimmed eyes locked on Katniss, blown pupils sliding over her face with recognition sparking in them every few seconds.

"Just keep your head down, don't make any unusual movements," Gale said, checking the shadows behind the frosted front windows of the shop.

Katniss nodded and took a deep breath, then stepped forward and pulled Pollux into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry," she whispered hoarsely, fighting back her tears again. Pollux gently pushed her back and smiled shakily, tears filling his eyes again. Katniss moved away and hesitantly approached Peeta, watching him for signs of aggression.

"Let me go with you," he said, "I can be a distraction for you both." His eyes were wild, desperate with the want to prove himself trustworthy, to earn her faith back once more.

"No, Peeta, stay here, stay hidden. It's not…safe for you."

"Then give me some nightlock, I'm _not_ going back there," he pleaded. His still gaunt features reminded her of Johanna's words of their shared time in the bowels of the Capital's torture chambers. She nodded and dug her capsule from within her vest and put it in his hand, curling his fingers around the innocuous pill. "Stay safe."

"Always."

Katniss nodded and turned away before he could see the emotion brewing behind grey eyes and caught Gale's eyes briefly before her vision was filled with blonde hair and vine tattoos. "Don't be stupid, Everdeen," Cressida whispered.

Katniss hugged her tightly, burying her nose against her shoulder, smelling gunpowder, sweat, blood – her own from shrapnel, and Castor's from the mutt attack in the sewers – and the faint underlying scent of her hair wash, just barely noticeable amongst the other smells. "I can't help it," Katniss said smartly.

Cressida pulled away with her lips pulled up in a smirk, belied by the worry evident in her eyes. "I know, that's what worries me. Promise you'll be safe, Katniss."

"I'll try."

They had grown closer ever since the last attack on Thirteen and Katniss' discovery of the roses outside afterward. Katniss knew Cressida was concerned about her health since she had, on several occasions, found Katniss huddled in some corner in Thirteen and sat beside her, silently offering a shoulder, a moment, a kind word – and sometimes not so kind, as she had taken to prodding Katniss to make her emote at all – a hug. There had been several moments when her lips had lingered too long on Katniss' skin, eyes locked until the brunette flushed and looked away or said something snarky to diffuse the charged tension that surrounded them more often recently.

Breaking eye contact, Katniss stepped away and pulled her hood up, making sure her bow was concealed before stepping out of the shop. She and Gale easily merged into the streaming flood of Capital refugees heading toward the mansion, warily eying the growing number of peacekeepers that were watching the press of people from behind reflective visors. Katniss faltered when she saw the peacekeepers up ahead pulling back hoods to see each person's face, and she pulled on Gale's arm. They began backtracking through the crowd and stopped as they saw more peacekeepers checking people from behind. Facing forward again, they had no choice but to continue closer to the checkpoint. Katniss felt a heavy hand on her shoulder for an instant before an explosion rocked the ground nearby and everyone fell to the ground.

In the ensuing chaos, Katniss and Gale ran onto the mansion grounds before they were separated by another blast from rebel bombs. Katniss shook her head to clear the daze from her mind and saw Gale captured by Capital troops. "Shoot me! Katniss, shoot me!" She lined up her shot, straight for his heart, but couldn't bring herself to loose the arrow, and so watched as Gale was loaded into the back of a truck and disappeared from sight.

She closed her eyes a moment against the carnage around her, stuffed her ears against the screams of the dying and bereft, the smells of smoke, burning bodies, and fear, and gathered her wits before rushing toward the mansion's gates and pushing through the throng of desperate people seeking sanctuary. The haze of battle had yet to reach the gates, although the gunfire was close by, and Katniss pushed past people until she reached a barricade of wood and flesh, peacekeepers holding back everyone and taking kids from their parents and placing them in a pen between themselves and the gates. Katniss' brow furrowed in confusion, then rage as she realized that Snow was using the kids as a human shield for himself.

Suddenly, the crowd went silent, and even the growing gunfire sounded subdued as a VTOL flew overhead and released a mass of familiar silver parachutes with small cylinders attached. The gentle chiming that announced their presence jarred heavily against the lingering screams behind everyone and the crowd of adults and children alike reached for the parachutes. Eyes and visors turned skyward as one, even Katniss' grey eyes watching the descent of the parachutes with something approaching horror in her face. As the first capsules landed in small hands and were opened, explosions ripped through the penned in kids and everything was masked in smoke and a lingering ring in Katniss' ears stifled all sound. Her sight afforded her the horrific images of children, charred and still, on the cracked and bloodstained pavement, as parents and strangers alike surged forward to help.

"…dic! Someone, get a medic!"

Sound surged back in waves, of grief and sobs and screams, of the din of battle renewed, of her own thundering heartbeat. Rebel medics pushed through the stunned crowd and knelt in the remains of the pen to gauge the damage, and Katniss froze as she saw a familiar sight. Skinny arms and legs, blonde hair escaping twin braids, the fabric of a shirt loose in the back, untucked from grey leggings given to medics and nurses alike in Thirteen.

"Prim?"

Katniss shoved a hysterical woman out of her way and stumbled forward. "Primrose?!" Her sister turned toward her, worry in her eyes as she took stock of Katniss' injuries and the copious blood on her cloak, then grey eyes met blue as Prim stood and opened her mouth.

"Prim!-" A secondary explosion rocked the plaza and Katniss was thrown back to the pavement, head smashing against jagged stones and she knew no more.

* * *

The steady sound of the heart rate monitor awoke Katniss first, then the dull pain at the back of her head and in her shoulders and back. Her eyes slowly opened and took in the white walls of the hospital with resignation as she wondered vaguely how she had landed in there again, then her memories rushed back and her breathing picked up. The shop, the refugees, the battle…the explosions.

"Oh God," Katniss whispered, hands bunching in the sheets until her knuckles whitened. Her stomach heaved and tears pricked behind her eyes, and then her mother was there, whispering to her with red eyes and attending to her myriad burns and scrapes while Haymitch muttered about their victory without meeting her eyes. Katniss forced back the bile in her throat and refused to let her tears drop, unwilling to show any more weakness in front of two of the people who had seen the most of it. Haymitch watched her with unusual misery in his eyes before excusing himself and wiping discreetly at his eyes, her mother not far behind after cupping Katniss' cheek and smiling wanly.

Katniss was left alone in the room even though there were more beds available and she was certain there were many more people injured, but she was grateful nonetheless for her solitude. A sob ripped through her chest and she muffled it with her blistered hand, squeezing her eyes shut so she wouldn't have to see the white walls that she had come to associate with her sister. Images played behind her eyelids, of her sister laughing, smiling, and loving with just a look. The cheerfulness that exuded from her even in the Seam, even in the wake of their father's death, even after Katniss' return from her Games and her withdrawal into herself as she tried to deal with the horrors of the Arena. Another sob escaped her pursed lips and her shoulders shook with the force of holding them in until she was gasping for air.

She startled when warm hands grabbed her shoulders and her eyes snapped open. Cressida stood in front of her, hip perched on the bed as her upper body extended toward her, eyes creased in worry. Her thumbs rubbed circles on her exposed collarbones and Katniss swallowed as she tried to get herself under control. Her jaw worked furiously and her eyes flicked between Cressida's, back and forth quickly to gauge the emotions lingering behind blue eyes. "Hey, Katniss. Glad you're up," she offered weakly.

Katniss nodded and pulled her defenses up, eyes drying as she regarded Cressida with her normal impassivity. Cressida's brow furrowed as all expression was wiped from Katniss' expression and leaned closer. "You doing alright, Everdeen? I know it's a lot to take in…" Her thumb kept rubbing circles on her collarbone and Katniss was suddenly irritated with her touch.

She shrugged off her hands and turned her head aside, staring at the blank wall as a muscle worked in her jaw. "I'm fine."

"You sure as hell don't look like it."

"I'm fine, okay! Just go away!" Katniss burst out, desperate to protect her fragile, fragmented heart from further torment. "I don't need your pity, Cressida! I don't want you here, just to use me as – as some fucking propo to show how sorry I am for the loss of life during the battle, or whatever bullshit you whip up!" Her bloodshot eyes and bloodless face whipped to face Cressida, rage covering the sorrow easily, comfortingly.

Cressida physically sat back like she had been struck and swallowed, eyes tightening. "I just…I want to help you, Katniss…"

"I don't need your god damned help!"

Katniss and Cressida stared at each other in silence, only the brunette's harsh breathing and the quickening beep of the monitor breaking the tense silence. "Get out," she hissed.

Cressida blinked in confusion and Katniss felt the stirrings of regret and remorse as hurt registered on her face. "What?"

"Get. Out. Now." Her tone brooked no argument, her eyes deadly and nostrils flared, and she bared her teeth when Cressida didn't immediately leave. "Get out! Get the hell out of here!" She ripped out the needles and stumbled from the bed, shoving Cressida and losing her balance as she did. Cressida reached for her and Katniss recoiled, hissing. " _Get out!_ "

A couple nurses rushed in and grabbed Katniss, dragging her back to the bed and strapping her into the cuffs on either side of the rails as she fought with all her quickly flagging strength. "Get out! Get – get out…get…" She dissolved into sobs as morphling was pumped into her veins via the re-inserted needle, and saw Cressida's sorrowful eyes before she was pulled under again.

* * *

" _It was quite ingenious, Miss Everdeen, was it not? Using my own parachutes to kill – murder – innocents. Many things I would do, and I admit I am not above killing children, Miss Everdeen, but I do not waste. That," Snow shook his head slowly, rheumy eyes slipping shut briefly, "that was wasteful. It served no purpose, did not achieve anything._

" _I was moments from issuing a public surrender when I saw the explosion; my own guards turned on me immediately. As I said, quite ingenious. I have to give it to Coin, she certainly knows how to run a show, to turn everything to her advantage." Snow smiled in some twisted form of admiration before doubling over as a cough shook his frame. His kerchief was stained with blood when he removed it from his lips, but he remained cheerful, despite his imprisonment._

" _I don't believe you," Katniss hiss venomously._

 _Sharp eyes, cold and calculating despite their age, stared through her. "My dear, I thought we'd agreed to never lie to each other?"_

Katniss trembled with every step she took into the enormous plaza, remembering the words Snow spoke to her in his greenhouse, his sanctuary and prison. The Capital citizens were silent in the stands, the rebels quiet but faces expressive with cheer and newly found freedom, as they closed ranks behind her and followed her to the pedestal Snow leaned against, hands cuffed and a demure smile on his lips. Above, on the dais the man had used so many times before to announce the games and send children to their deaths, Coin stepped out, every inch the victorious leader in her new boots and thick, warm cloak.

"On this day, this day that shall be marked forever in history, we end an era of bloodshed and tyranny!" Her voice boomed from corner to corner of the plaza, amplified by the hidden speakers on her person. "We welcome our chosen champion to end this vicious cycle of death and send us into a new age! Our Mockingjay!" Her eyes, bright with impending victory, glanced at Katniss, who stared impassively back. "Katniss, may your arrow find its mark, fly as straight and true as your thoughts, and as pure as your heart!" She stepped back with a smile and Katniss lowered her eyes to Snow's frame.

The man leaned heavily against the pedestal at his back, but somehow retained his poise, even in the face of his death. Katniss drew an arrow and drew back her bow, string pressed against her cheek as she sighted down the shaft to the place over his heart. She took several breaths and met his eyes, finding his usual arrogance still alight in pale eyes, and an unwavering certainty that set her teeth on edge.

With a final, deep breath, Katniss' eyes flicked up to Coin and her bow followed her sight smoothly, fingers releasing the shaft of her arrow in a single motion. She watched the arrow pierce Coin's chest and the shaft disappear, the woman's eyes widening in surprise before glossing over immediately. As she collapsed on the stone dais, two large men grabbed Katniss and dragged her away from the crowd surging toward Snow, yelling and screaming as those nearest to the deposed president began beating him until he disappeared beneath the press of bodies.

* * *

Katniss walked numbly through the remains of Twelve with Haymitch at her side, carefully watching her from the edge of his vision, and didn't stop walking until she was at the foot of the steps leading to her house. Haymitch laid his hand on her arm and she stopped, refusing to look at him. "Katniss…" He sighed. She could almost see the vexed expression as he, for once, struggled to say something. "You can't stay like this forever, you know?"

She didn't answer and he sighed again before releasing her. "Don't forget to bathe once in a while," he called just before she shut the door. Katniss almost let slip a smile before she shucked her boots and outer layer, the warmth not needed in the heated home. She collapsed onto the couch in the large living room and stared at the wall, counting the boards on the floor before falling asleep.

Thus, a routine began. Every morning, Katniss shook herself from her lethargy long enough to walk into the woods and shoot some small game, or a deer if it was small enough, and walked back through the destroyed fence to the Victor's Village. She usually walked into Haymitch's house and left the kill on his counter as she made sure he was up, or at least not drowned in a puddle of alcohol or vomit, and swiped a bottle of moonshine before walking back to her house and hanging up her father's jacket and setting her bow and quiver by the door.

Sometimes, she would bathe, or eat if Haymitch happened to bring anything over. Other times, she would forgo any sustenance – not that she usually noticed if she was hungry anyway – and simply sit in the bay window downstairs and stare out over the remains of Twelve, snow blanketing the rubble and making everything softer somehow. As the snow piled higher, it became more difficult to traverse the woods, but she continued anyway, even when her boots became saturated with icy water and her fingers were numb with cold.

Letters arrived occasionally, brought by Haymitch since he stopped at the station every week or so hoping for correspondence from Effie. She refused to open any of the letters and, eventually, Haymitch took it upon himself to read them to her. Her mother sent notes with her love, telling of her times training new nurses in the Capital; Annie sent pictures of herself and her son, telling Katniss how much he was growing and how she told him every day about Finnick. She heard about Gale's promotion through the army, even though she never received anything from him; she doubted she would do anything other than burn his letters anyway, since it was his idea that birthed the delayed bombs that fated day in the Capital. Peeta sent letters every once in a while, at first asking after her health and questions of the past, then eventually telling her of a girl he met in the bakery he had set up. His letters came fewer and further between as the winter passed until one day, they just stopped. Katniss refused to acknowledge the pain in her chest as the second month passed without word from him, ignoring Haymitch's sympathetic gazes as she drank more and went out less.

She noticed the increasingly worried looks he gave her but didn't say anything, only retreated further into herself and glared whenever he tried to bring anything related to painful topics into the light. Finally, one day while she sat on the couch and stared at the wall, having destroyed the holo-TV in a fit of rage one night, she heard a knock at the door. Her brow wrinkled as she wobbled to her feet, discarded bottles clinking as she shuffled into the front hall. "Haymitch doesn' knock…" She pulled open the door, stumbling a little as the weight of it caught her by surprise, and blinked when a mass of blonde hair, unkempt as ever and partly shaved, came into view.

"Katniss?"

"Cressida?" Katniss couldn't comprehend why Cressida would be standing on her stoop and peered blearily at the blonde before walking away, leaving the front door open.

Cressida hesitated another moment and then followed the brunette inside, shutting the door behind herself and removing her heavy boots and jacket. "Katniss, I got a letter from Haymitch, is everything o…" her voice dropped off as she saw Katniss laying on the couch, surrounded by empty bottles and dirty dishes, eyes dull and lifeless. "Obviously not," she answered for herself.

The smell, partly alcoholic, partly unwashed body, assaulted her nose and she opened her mouth to breathe through it and filter some of the smell out. She approached Katniss and was somewhat relieved as grey eyes followed her movements, albeit sluggishly. Cressida perched cautiously on the arm of the couch and leaned over Katniss, the back of her hand to her forehead. "Katniss, how long have you been like this?"

"How long's Coin been dead?" Katniss rebutted dourly.

Cressida sighed as she took in the dark circles beneath the brunette's eyes, the greasy hair, the way her face had paled and hollowed out from lack of food and sunlight. "I swear, you give a man one job," she muttered to herself. She stared hard at Katniss another moment and then nodded to herself. She rolled up her long sleeved shirt and crouched in front of Katniss, eying her warily and searching for a hidden weapon. Satisfied she was unarmed, Cressida kicked the bottles out of the way, grabbed Katniss around her ankles and dragged her off the couch. Before she could recover, she stuck her arms beneath her armpits and dragged her upright, tucking a shoulder beneath Katniss' and wrapping her arm around her waist as they began struggling toward the bathroom on the other side of the house.

Katniss followed docilely for a few steps, then balked as she realized they were moving and the direction they were headed in. "Nooo, wanna sleep," she slurred.

Cressida grunted as she adjusted for Katniss' struggling and kept walking toward the bathroom. "No, what you need is a bath. Besides, you don't look like you've done much sleeping recently." Eventually, they made it into the bathroom and Cressida shut the door and stared at Katniss as she weaved unsteadily on her feet. The blonde raised her brow as Katniss glared petulantly at the empty tub and cleared her throat. "Well?"

"Don't wanna. 'm clean."

"I beg to differ, Everdeen. You smell like a brewery and a stables had a love child. Strip, and get in the tub." Katniss crossed her arms and glared at the wall, weaving dangerously until she sat suddenly on the toilet, still glaring. Cressida sighed heavily and cursed Haymitch for letting Katniss go this far, then approached her slowly and knelt at her feet. She slowly removed her socks, then reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled on it. "Up." Katniss glared at her and Cressida stared unflinchingly back until the brunette groaned and raised her arms compliantly, taking off her shirt and tossing it into a corner. Her bra was gone before she realized it, then she was on her feet and leaning on Cressida heavily as the blonde struggled to unzip her pants and shimmy them down her hips while keeping them both upright.

Eventually, Katniss stood in her underwear, shivering as Cressida ran the water, and then pointed at the steaming tub imperiously. "In, now. I'll be outside; don't try anything funny, I want you squeaky clean when I come back." Cressida turned away, raising her eyes to the ceiling as she heard Katniss shuffling her underwear off, then the water moving as she sat in the tub.

Satisfied Katniss had sat herself down, Cressida grabbed the handle and paused as the brunette's raspy voice broke the silence. "Stay." Cressida chanced a look over her shoulder and was amazed at how young Katniss looked, eyes half closed and head resting against her drawn up knees, face free of makeup. She wavered uncertainly and nodded when Katniss looked anxious, sitting on the toilet by the tub.

They sat in silence for several minutes until Cressida grabbed the bar of soap on the ledge and wetted it, then began running it over Katniss' exposed back. The brunette tensed briefly, but relaxed as Cressida continued the soothing, repetitive motions. She offered her arm when Cressida paused and the blonde washed from her fingers up to her shoulder, silently marveling at the muscle in her biceps as they flexed lazily. Cressida crouched at the side of the tub and waited for Katniss to look at her before covering her hands in suds and slowly extending them toward her. Katniss watched her silently, grey eyes attentive now, and blinked when the smooth pads of her fingertips lay against her cheeks.

Cressida cupped her cheeks and slowly moved her fingers in small circular motions, cleaning the grime of days of not washing from pale skin. Her fingers migrated toward Katniss' temples and pressed deeper, eventually slipping into her hairline as her thumbs continued the massage. Katniss' eyes closed and she made a small, content sound, water rippling as she slipped lower in the water. Cressida felt a smile slip onto her lips as the crease between grey eyes disappeared. She studied Katniss while her eyes were shut, seeing just how gaunt she had become, the bruise-like shadows beneath her eyes, the unhealthy tone in her skin.

"Oh, Katniss…" Grey eyes opened to regard her. "I wish there was something I could do to help you." Katniss studied Cressida and, in lieu of a verbal answer, pushed her head further into her hands, motioning for her to continue.

* * *

Over the remainder of the winter, Cressida and Katniss forged a new routine. Every morning, the blonde would coax Katniss from her bed – her actual bed, not the now ruined couch – and they would dress warmly before venturing into the woods. At first, they would just walk until they got cold and turn back, but a couple weeks into it, Katniss strung her bow and pulled an arrow from her quiver, sighting down the shaft quickly before releasing and taking down a pheasant. Cressida had little chance to do anything other than stare as Katniss silently picked up the fowl and they trekked back to the now kept up house. Katniss cleaned the bird while Cressida watched, wishing she had her vid recorder so she could replay the delicate control Katniss wielded the skinning knife with.

They would usually end up at Haymitch's after Cressida made them lunch, with no small amount of cajoling on the blonde's part initially. Katniss fought her for every foot in the beginning, glaring and growling animally as she backed away from the blonde's persistent gaze. "Katniss, stop this," she said sternly, hands on her hips.

"I don't want to see him." Her grey eyes were stormy and dark, shoulders bowed up and stance decidedly aggressive, but Cressida closed the distance fearlessly.

"You have to get out more, Katniss. You can't stay inside forever." Katniss shook her head and retreated until she felt the counter at her back and her eyes widened as she realized she was trapped. "It'll do you good to get out, even if it is just Haymitch," Cressida said with a gentle smile.

Despite her growing anxiety, Katniss felt something settle as Cressida kept talking quietly and took small steps her way. Booted feet butted up against Katniss' socked toes and she suddenly realized how closely they were standing, Cressida's heat filling the space between them, blue eyes locked on hers and her hand resting lightly on Katniss' forearm. "Please? Just do this for me?" Katniss watched her silently and nodded, heart rising hopefully as Cressida smiled beautifully.

After that, it gradually became easier to convince her to venture out, although they still had days where Katniss refused to get out of bed. On those days, when her eyes stared sightlessly through the wall and body curled protectively in on itself, Cressida would hover beside her before slipping behind her, beneath the covers, and they would lay there together.

The first time it happened, she ended up fleeing to Haymitch and asking what she could do. "There's nothing to do," he said lowly, flask in hand as he stared morosely out the window at the fat flakes. "Somedays, there's just no way to make it worth it to get out of bed. My advice," he continued, meeting Cressida's worried gaze, "stay with her. Talk to her; even if she doesn't answer, she'll know you're there, and she'll appreciate it. Trust me."

Cressida walked back into Katniss' house and paused in the doorway of her bedroom, watching the unmoving lump that she would think dead if not for the slight rise and fall of her breaths. She sat on the edge of the bed and rested her hand over Katniss' back, unsurprised when she didn't respond. "I had to talk with Haymitch for a moment, I'm sorry. I just…I don't know what to do now, in this situation."

Her thumb rubbed small circles over her vertebrae as she talked about everything and nothing, from the weather to the hopes she'd had when she was young to the nightmares she still got occasionally from the war. As the meager sunlight fled, she cautiously lowered herself onto the bed and scooted until she was pressed up against Katniss' back, molded to her curled position that had relaxed slightly. She heard the brunette's breath stutter and forced her hand not to tremble as she laid her arm over Katniss' waist and buried her nose against the back of her neck.

"I hope you don't mind this, but I…I don't want to sleep alone tonight." She didn't expect a response, and had nearly drifted off when she felt calloused fingers brush the back of her hand and the last of the tension leave Katniss' frame, before they both succumbed to sleep.

* * *

At first, Cressida didn't know what woke her, but she was immediately alert when she felt Katniss thrash in her loose hold. The brunette's shirt was soaked through with sweat, muscles tense as she whimpered and cried out in her sleep. "Katniss…Katniss, it's okay, it's just a dream."

Katniss kept moving erratically, her breath quick, and Cressida sat up on her elbow, turning on the lamp behind her. Katniss' skin gleamed, her eyes were pinched shut, and she jerked again. "No!-" Her foot jerked from beneath the cover and hit Cressida's shin. Blue eyes watered in pain but she bit her lip and just leaned over the brunette.

"Katniss, please, wake up," she hissed.

Katniss writhed, fists clenched and garbled words escaping her lips. "No, plea – Prim, no! _No!_ " Katniss jerked awake and lurched upright, gasping for air. Wild grey eyes searched the room and settled on Cressida. "I-I, what are-"

"It's okay, Kat, you're alright." Cressida ducked her head to meet eyes still wary with distrust. "Your name is Katniss Everdeen. You live in Twelve. You escaped the Games. You're home." Her fingers sought out the tangled strands of hair keeping her from Katniss' gaze and she turned her chin up to look in her eyes. "You're home; here, you're safe."

Katniss swallowed hard and her eyes watered. She threw herself into Cressida's arms and a sob tore from her throat, shaking her slight frame. Cressida drew her closer and whispered against her temple, rocking her until her sobs subsided and she leaned tiredly against her shoulder. "Do you think you can sleep some more?" Katniss nodded and they laid down, Cressida on her back as Katniss curled up against her side, head on her chest as she listened to her heartbeat.

* * *

"What are those?" Katniss stood frozen on the walk, staring at Cressida.

She flushed and held up the scraggly plants. "I found them on the edge of the forest. They won't bloom until later, but it's a primrose. I recognize the leaf." Katniss' jaw tightened and Cressida prepared to diffuse the erratic anger that showed up sometimes. She was surprised when Katniss sighed and set her bow, quiver, and game on the walk and knelt beside her, taking the plant from her hands. She placed it in the hole in the ground reverently, filling it with dirt and packing it around.

"She had a goat, we would get milk from her and I'd sell it in the Hob. Cranky old bitch, wouldn't let anyone but Prim near her." Katniss chuckled weakly and took the spade from Cressida's numb fingers, digging another hole. "She had a way with animals though; she kept a cat, too, the most miserable, ugly thing. Named him Buttercup," she snorted, smirking as she took another primrose from the ground and set it in the hole. "Most contrary creature I've ever met. He hated me, would hiss whenever he saw me, and I threatened to cook him more times than I can recall."

Cressida shook herself from her stupor and scooted closer to Katniss, laying her hand over Katniss' before she could move. "She sounds amazing, I wish I could have known her better." She squeezed Katniss' hand and paused when strong, calloused fingers threaded through hers. "Katniss?"

"I…thank you," the brunette whispered.

"For what?"

"Staying." Watery grey eyes met blue and Cressida was thrown by the genuine feelings blatant in her gaze. She smiled softly and leaned in, lips pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Always."


End file.
